


Birthday in E Flat, Third Movement

by compo67



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Babies, Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Children, Dad Jensen, Domestic Fluff, Double Drabble, Fluff, Happy Birthday Jensen, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Short & Sweet, Slice of Life, Timestamp, Unofficial Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 16:15:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10031054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/compo67/pseuds/compo67
Summary: Timestamps for "Plastic Blue Spoon" and "Slipped Inside Your Right Back Pocket" to celebrate Jensen's 39th birthday. 390 words each.





	

**Plastic Blue Spoon**

 

Two six month olds and one two year old do not make for an adequate go-go dancing line.

Sure, the twins can crawl and Jules can imitate Martha Graham with his favorite blankie, but can any of them put on a cohesive performance? In their cribs, James and Jenna focus on sitting themselves up and falling over, not even in sync or to the beat of classic Christina Aguilera songs. They look up at him with bright hazel eyes and drool all over the matching outfits Jared dressed them in this morning.

“That’s highly unprofessional,” Jensen announces to his hoard of babies and toddler. “We do not drool in front of clients. We make  _ them  _ drool over  _ us _ .” 

Jules attempts to make up for his siblings’ lack of discipline by bursting out into song. He sings at random, often to himself, taking extensive artistic liberties. Anytime, anywhere, Jules will practice his musical repertoire, even at two in the morning, when Jensen has daddy on the verge of...

“The things you teach our children,” Jared quips, walking in and leaning on the opposite side of the crib as Jensen. His hair is down and he’s dressed like… not a parent of three. 

“Pearls of wisdom. What are you all dressed up for? I thought we were just gonna hang out here.”

“Uh, no.”

Jensen picks up James and whispers in his ear. “Stick with me, kid. I’ll teach you useful stuff. Like, ‘Sorry, I only take twenties in my g-string.’” 

Jules approves, launching into a stunning rendition of what might be Clair de Lune on his toy xylophone--a Christmas present from his sadistic aunts.

Jared sighs. 

Jensen nods. “That thing’s going to toy heaven tomorrow.”

“Put the baby down and step away with your hands up. We are going out.”

“I’ll miss tummy time.”

“You’ll miss daddy time.”

“Oh…  _ daddy _ time? What’s that?”

“Nothing if you don’t get going.”

The pair of wicked Aunties Opal and Nova arrive. Minutes later, Jensen rattles off emergency numbers. Just before Jared can yank him out, Jules runs up and gives Jensen a parting gift: a slobbery, slightly sticky (?!) kiss on the chin that’s mostly teeth, and a good smack to the head with his plastic blue spoon.

Outside, Jared kisses him, with less slobber and some teeth. 

It’s pretty much the best birthday ever.

 

 

\----

**Slipped Inside Your Right Back Pocket**

 

Not a soul on the island believes in air conditioning.

This shouldn’t surprise Jared, because just before the air decided to turn into lava when inhaled, he found out that no one on the island had a charger for an iPhone 7 or proper shoe polish for a pair of Gucci boots.

“I’m dying,” Jared cries, stretched out on a lounge chair in Jensen’s backyard. He thought the trees would help, but the trees are full of terrible, awful insects. “Look at me,” he gasps. “Melting. I’m melting! Oh, what a world.”

Jensen steps out onto the patio and closes the sliding door behind him. 

“I’m wearing more clothes than you are and I’m fine.” 

“Oh my god, you have heat stroke. Come here, you poor man.”

“This isn’t even summer, Jared.”

“Ughhhhhhhhhhhhh.” 

“Also, you’re not doing anything. I’m the one who went and got supplies.”

“To the untrained eye I’m not doing anything,” Jared sniffs and sits up. “I’m  _ resting _ .” 

Jensen sits down on a wooden deck chair next to Jared. How can he manage to wear a bright blue Hawaiian shirt and a pair of cargo shorts? Jared is in the tiniest shorts he could find and a top he insists isn’t a bikini top. 

Yet he’s  _ still _ sweating more than Jensen. 

With a smile, Jensen murmurs, “You’re the one who wanted to stay.”

Tying his hair up, Jared scoffs. “I was tricked.”

“Nothing’s stopping you from getting on a private jet and scooting your ass back home.”

Jared stands up and places his hands on his hips. “How dare you talk to me that way.” He flips his ponytail in displeasure. “And after I bought you lunch for your birthday.”

Jensen’s eyes wander exactly the way Jared wants them to. His voice sounds a bit distant. “You didn’t buy me lunch, I paid, and my birthday was months ago.”

Jared has never kneeled on hot concrete before. Big mistake. After a yip and a hiss, he accepts a folded towel from Jensen and positions himself exactly the way they both want him to--between Jensen’s spread legs. Jared places his hands on Jensen’s thighs, fingers pressing into muscle. 

“Quiet. You want your belated birthday blow job or not?” 

Later, he talks Jensen into ordering a small air conditioning unit. They might pass out without one in the summer. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i was hoping to have all of these done, but i only finished two. D: 
> 
> hopefully i get the rest written and up tomorrow! but here are the first two. i hope you enjoy the glimpses into how some of these verses are doing. also, it's the most difficult thing ever for me to stick to a word count!
> 
> comments are love. <3


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